


The Perks of Being the Best Friend

by MimiWritesHerFandoms



Category: What's Your Number? (2011)
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:27:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24192076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiWritesHerFandoms/pseuds/MimiWritesHerFandoms
Summary: You wish your best friend and neighbor, Colin, would stop manscaping to impress women.
Relationships: Colin Shea/Reader
Comments: 14
Kudos: 76





	The Perks of Being the Best Friend

You and Colin had been friends for a long time, so long it felt like forever. The two of you had known each other since high school, even dated for a while in college - a short while because Colin was too much for you to handle. Maybe if you’d been older, more experienced, and a lot less naive, things would have worked out. Luckily, dating only seemed to strengthen your friendship and you were eternally grateful that it had. You’d be lost without him.

It was Colin who had let you crash in his apartment when your boyfriend of three years broke up with you and kicked you out of your shared townhouse; it was Colin who had put in a good word with the landlord, helping you secure the apartment across from his when twenty other people were also vying for it; and it was Colin you went to any time anything good or bad or crazy happened in your life.

The two of you could talk about anything and everything. Colin said you were his sanity in a world of crazy women; you tried to convince him to stop dating crazy women, not that it worked. He was always there when you needed him and vice versa.

Suffice to say, Colin was your best friend. And you were his. So what if you’d recently started thinking that maybe you wanted to be more than just his best friend? You’d been down that road once and while you could see yourself giving him another shot, you weren’t sure he’d feel the same way about you.

At least the best friend thing came with a few perks, your favorite of which was how often you got to see Colin naked. You had a deep appreciation for how unbelievably sexy Colin was. And since the man was an exhibitionist with no qualms about dropping his trousers - and his shirt - at any time for any reason, you were able to appreciate him quite frequently.

Of course, it was Colin’s frequent nakedness that ended up being the reason the two of you got in the disagreement to begin with.

You marched into his apartment late one night after a particularly irritating blind date. You were tired, grumpy, and sick of meeting men on Tinder or Bumble or whatever stupid dating app you were currently using, especially when they turned out to be egotistical jerks just looking to hook up. You wanted a beer and you wanted to vent.

“Colin?” you yelled as you opened his door.

“I’m in the bathroom,” he yelled back.

You grabbed a couple of beers from his fridge, opened them, kicked off your shoes, and crossed the room to lean against the open bathroom door. You set his beer on the edge of the counter beside him, eyeing him up and down as you did.

“What are you doing?” you sighed.

He paused, his razor in his hand, one eyebrow raised. “Hello to you, too. What’s it look like I’m doing?”

“You’re manscaping again, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “I have a date in an hour.”

For some reason, Colin saying he had a date got your hackles up. “Tell me, why do you feel the need to shave your chest hair?” You took a swallow of your beer, your eyes never leaving Colin’s finely toned body.

“For the hundredth time, it makes me look hotter.”

“Says you,” you muttered.

Colin finished shaving his chest hair - at least he stopped short of waxing it - and tossed his razor on the counter. He turned around and leaned against the sink. He was shirtless, in just a pair of boxers and black flip flops, putting his chest and tight abs - as well as other things - on full display.

“Says me?” he snorted. “Why are we having this conversation again? I know you think I shouldn’t “manscape” as you call it, but you won’t tell me why.”

“You really want to know?” you asked.

“I wouldn’t have said anything if I didn’t,” he grumbled.

You downed the rest of your beer, took a step into the small bathroom - so small that you had no choice but to press yourself right up against Colin - and stared into his gorgeous blue eyes. You didn’t fail to notice the way his cheeks turned pink, or how he was gnawing at his lower lip and shifting from foot to foot as you rested your hand on his nearly bare chest.

“There’s just something about being able to run my fingers through your chest hair, or, you know, maybe nuzzle it with my nose.” Your voice had dropped, low and breathy, and Jesus Christ, were you flirting with your best friend? Your fingers drifted across his chest, brushing against his now too short, practically non-existent chest hair.

Yes, you were definitely flirting with your best friend.

“It would be so soft,” you murmured. “So soft and oh my god, it would smell so good, especially after you got out of the shower. I can just imagine what it would be like to press my lips against it, to follow it down your chest and into your -”

Colin grabbed your hand, which had slid down his chest and over his abs, stopping you before you could ease it past the waistband of his underwear. He swallowed, his throat making a loud clicking sound.

“What are you doing, babe?” he whispered.

“Explaining why I think you shouldn’t manscape,” you shrugged, taking a step back, your hands falling to your sides. “But you do you. Have fun on your date.” You turned and fled.

Once you were safely in your apartment, you let out the breath you’d been holding. You weren’t sure where the hell that had come from; you knew that you’d been having weird feelings about Colin lately, imagining the two of you doing things you hadn’t done since you’d dated, thinking about him in ways that were very  _ un _ friend like. And if you were being honest with yourself, you were jealous of the women he’d recently been dating, dates that ended with the girl leaving Colin’s apartment the next morning while he hid out in yours. But flirting with Colin like that, well, that had been borderline crazy, and Jesus, it had turned you on in the worst way.

“Colin is my friend,” you mumbled to yourself. “Not my boyfriend, my friend. My best friend. Seeing him half-naked is just one of the perks of being the best friend. Get a grip, woman.” 

You threw yourself on the couch, pulled a pillow over your face, and screamed into it until your throat hurt. At least you felt better. A little.

You didn’t answer your phone when Colin called a couple of hours later.

* * *

You didn’t see Colin the rest of the weekend; you ended up having to go into work plus you were still a little bit embarrassed by what had happened between the two of you. You’d practically thrown yourself at him; he was probably just waiting to give you a hard time about it. And there was no way you were ready for that. You needed time to get your head on straight.

By Monday morning, you felt a little more centered when it came to your feelings for your best friend. You probably just needed to get it out of your system, get him out of your system, and hopefully, your over-the-top flirting on Friday night had accomplished that. Once you were ready for work, you sent Colin a text, asking him if he was ready to go get coffee, as per your normal weekday morning ritual.

It took him forever to answer, so long you were about ready to leave without him when your phone vibrated with an incoming message.

_ Can’t. Busy _ .

You rolled your eyes. He wasn’t busy. Not at seven in the morning. He was probably still in bed and if you knew Colin, he probably had a woman in there with him. That was definitely something you didn’t want to see. You tucked your phone back in your purse without answering and went to work.

Colin managed to avoid you not only Monday but also Tuesday and Wednesday. He didn’t join you for your usual morning coffee, he didn’t pop in when you were making dinner to mooch food off of you and every time you texted him, he sent back a cursory, short text devoid of well, anything.

Thursday morning you didn’t bother with a text; you slipped on your shoes, marched across the hall, and pounded on Colin’s door. It took him longer than normal to answer, so long you contemplated getting the super to unlock his door.

When he finally opened it, his hair was standing on end and he still had creases from his pillow on his cheek. Oddly enough, not only did he have on a pair of boxers, but a t-shirt as well; it surprised you since he was just as likely to open the door with a towel covering his junk. 

“Good morning,” you grinned.

“Hi,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. “What’s up?”

“Do you want to get coffee? Like we’ve done every morning for the last six months. You know, since I moved in here? Or are you going to keep avoiding me?”

Colin gave you a sheepish grin. “I’m not avoiding you, Y/N. Yeah, we can get coffee. Give me five minutes to get ready.” 

He tried to shut the door, but you pushed past him and sat down on the edge of his bed. At least there wasn’t a woman in it.

“No date?” you said.

“No,” he shook his head. “No date.” He didn’t offer any other explanation, just went into the bathroom and shut the door behind himself.

When he finally emerged, he was completely dressed, all the way down to his shoes and a hat on his head. You weren’t sure what was going on, but it was weird. He never shut you out, not like he was doing right now.

“Colin? Are we okay?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I just...things got kind of weird on Friday night -”

“It was nothing,” he interrupted. “Just two friends goofing around. Come on, let’s go. I need coffee.”

You followed him out the door, but you didn’t feel any better. You started to ask him a hundred times if he was okay, if the two of you really were okay, delve deeper into the conversation, more than he seemed willing to do, but you couldn’t seem to get the words out. You finally settled on the one topic you could usually get him to discuss. Women.

“How was your date on Friday?”

He shrugged one shoulder and grunted, then he picked up his coffee and held it in front of his face, staring at you over the rim of the cup.

“You didn’t hide in my apartment Saturday morning like you usually do,” you prompted, hoping to get him talking.

“I didn’t bring her home.” He sipped his coffee, watching you the entire time, like he was gauging your reaction.

“Well, that’s, um, unusual,” you replied.

“I wasn’t feeling it,” he mumbled. “What about you? Didn’t you have a date Friday, too? How’d that go?”

“Why do you think I was at your house by ten on Friday night? He was a dud. Actually, he was a jerk. He came into the date under the assumption that I was going to be an easy lay. I dumped him over drinks at the bar. I don’t think he was too upset. He was talking up some girl three seats down from us when I left.”

“Hmm. That explains why you got all up in my face about my chest hair. Displaced anger.”

“That’s not why,” you sighed. “I stand by what I said. You’re undeniably sexy, but  _ not _ manscaping would only amp up that sexiness. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”

“Oh, yeah?” he smirked.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“How do you know?” he asked, leaning over the table, those damn blue eyes staring into your soul.

This was your chance, your opportunity to tell him that maybe, just maybe, your feelings for him were changing and that  _ you _ were the one that thought he’d look sexy, that you didn’t want him to manscape anymore, that maybe you two should give it another shot, and that you didn’t need shaved Colin. You wanted Colin just like God had intended him. An image of him naked, in your bed, flitted through your head.

“Y/N? You okay?”

You nodded, sort of. You opened your mouth and closed it again, like a dying fish. Before you could say anything, respond to his non-response, Colin shoved his chair backward and jumped to his feet. 

“I gotta go,” he said. “I’ll talk to you later.” He glanced over his shoulder as he left and winked. The bastard winked.

“Bye,” you mumbled to his retreating form.

* * *

Things were somewhat normal after that, aside from the fact that Colin seemed to keep his clothes on around you far more than he ever had before. That was definitely different and a little depressing. You’d enjoyed getting an eyeful of almost naked Colin once in a while. You figured your dislike of his manscaping ritual had made him self-conscious, so he’d decided to cover up when you were around. 

You had no one to blame but yourself.

Colin also seemed to either be dating less or hiding his dates from you; he’d stopped showing up in your apartment early in the morning attempting to hide from whatever woman was sleeping in his bed and you hadn’t seen or heard him bring anyone home in weeks. You almost asked him several times, but you decided you really didn’t want to know. Hearing him talk about the different women he was dating had always irritated the hell out of you. You figured you should be grateful that you didn’t have to listen to it.

Your feelings for Colin hadn’t changed, in fact, they might have intensified. You were falling and you couldn’t decide what to do. You were terrified that you would get hurt. You fought those feelings for months, months you spent trying to decide if you should tell Colin how you felt or not. You finally ended up doing the one thing you probably shouldn’t have done, which was ignore your feelings and pretend they didn’t exist. Because of that, you started to pull away from Colin in an effort to protect yourself, going so far as to avoid him, making excuses to get out of your daily coffee date, ducking into the alley if he happened to be leaving the building when you came home, even hiding in your apartment pretending you weren’t there. 

After two weeks of avoiding Colin, you missed him and hated yourself at the same time. He was your best friend and he deserved to know why he was getting the cold shoulder. Maybe all of this was a bad idea. Maybe you’d fooled yourself into thinking you were attracted to Colin again.

You were contemplating the best way to talk to him when there was a knock on your door. It had to be your Chinese food. You glanced around for your purse.

“One second!” you yelled.

The door opened and you swung around, ready to scream, but instead, you started laughing. Colin stood in the doorway, munching on an eggroll, your bag of food dangling from one hand.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Holding your food hostage until you agree to talk to me,” he replied.

“Colin -”

“You have been avoiding me for weeks,” he said, stepping into your apartment and shutting the door. He crossed the room and set the bag of food on the table. “What the hell did I do?”

“Nothing,” you sighed. 

“Then why have you been avoiding me?”

You dropped onto the couch and pulled the pillow over your head. Maybe if you didn’t have to look at him, you could tell him how you were feeling.

“Y/N?” The couch dipped beside you and Colin tugged on the pillow. “Y/N, talk to me.”

You squeezed your eyes closed and pushed the pillow off of your face, refusing to look at him. “Lately I’ve been having feelings for you and I thought if I avoided you that I’d feel better or it would go away but instead it’s getting worse.” You dragged in a deep breath. “There, I said it. Now you can laugh at me and go away.”

“Open your eyes,” Colin said.

“No.”

“Come on, Y/N, open your eyes,” he said again.

You sighed, but you did as he asked. He was smiling which you took as a good sign. Maybe.

“Why are you smiling, Colin?”

“I have to tell you something,” he replied.

“If it’s that you hate me, I totally get it.” You pushed yourself to your feet and stomped across the room to the food on the table, your back to Colin. “I was being childish, pushing you away, and acting like an idiot.” You started yanking food from the bags and setting it on the table. “Look, let’s just forget I said anything, go back to being friends. I’ll get over it, I promise.”

A plain gray t-shirt landed on the floor beside your feet. You slowly turned around to see Colin standing on the other side of the room, shirt off, jeans hanging low on his hips, his normally manscaped chest covered in fine, dark hair.

“What the hell?” you murmured. “You...you let it grow.”

Colin slowly walked toward you, a delicious smirk on his face. “See, there’s this girl I like,” he murmured. “And she thinks I should quit manscaping, as she calls it. So, I figured, for her, I’d stop and see if she really likes me better with the chest hair. You know, au natural.” 

He stopped right in front of you, inches away. You itched to reach out and touch him. You glanced up at him, drowning in his blue eyes. Without looking away, you put your hand on his chest and ran your fingers through his chest hair, then you leaned forward and nuzzled him, inhaling deeply. He smelled amazing. You took a chance and pressed a kiss to his well-defined chest, your breath catching in your throat when Colin moaned quietly.

You looked up at him, silently begging him to kiss you. He didn’t disappoint; he cupped the back of your head and pulled you close, his tongue dancing across your lips. His hands slid down your sides and he took the hem of your shirt in your hands, pulling it up and over your head, his hands going to your waist as the shirt fell to the floor. Goosebumps bloomed on your skin, a shiver racing through you. 

You rose up on your toes, pushing yourself into the kiss, your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer. You moaned into his mouth, an answering groan leaving him. He pushed you backward until your back hit the kitchen counter and he fell to his knees, his lips roaming over your body, kissing your stomach and your hips as he unbuttoned your jeans and slid them down your legs. He yanked off your shoes before pulling your jeans off, tossing them aside. He kissed a trail up your legs, kneading, licking, and sucking at your inner thighs, your hips thrusting forward, chasing his mouth.

“Not yet,” Colin growled.

He took hold of your hands, holding them at your sides as he worked his way up your nearly naked body - kissing your stomach, the soft swell of your breasts, his tongue circling your lace-covered nipples. He gently nipped at the sensitive skin of your neck before catching your lips in his, his tongue sinking into your mouth, kissing you like you’d wanted him to kiss you for months. 

You were trembling, leaning against him, your fingers digging into his hips, your breath tearing in and out of your throat. Colin picked you up and set you on the edge of the counter, stepping between your legs, his body flush against yours. Your entire body ached with need and want, his kisses driving you insane.

“Colin,” you gasped. “Bed, now.”

He chuckled, low in the back of his throat, but he did as you asked, stumbling across the room to your bedroom and laying you on the bed. You quickly unhooked your bra and tossed it to the floor just before Colin crawled onto the bed beside you and took your breast in his mouth, sucking it gently.

“Why the hell did we ever break up?” he mumbled, his breath hot against your skin.

“Because we are stupid, stupid people,” you moaned. “Less talking, more kissing.”

Colin laughed, pushed himself to his feet, and kicked off his jeans, then he pulled off your lacy pink panties, adding them to the clothes piling up on the floor. He kneeled at the foot of the bed, between your legs, his eyes roaming over your body. He dropped his head and pressed a kiss to your stomach, then your hips before he licked his lips, flattened his tongue, and slowly ran it through the lips of your pussy. He moaned, his lips vibrating against your skin, then his tongue was sinking into you, two fingers sliding into your pussy, twisting and turning until he hit that spot that made your hips buck and your eyes roll back in your head.

You lost yourself in what Colin was doing, gasping and moaning as he transported you to heights you’d forgotten existed. Your hips rose to meet his mouth, your hands clenched in the blankets, screams of pleasure falling from your lips as you came in his mouth and on his fingers.

He held you, slowly lapping at your soaking wet pussy, his finger brushing over your swollen clit until you finally collapsed in a boneless, out of breath mess. He released you long enough to snag his jeans with one finger, grab a condom from the pocket, and slide it down his length, then he crawled up the bed and pulled your legs around his waist, easing into you, a low grunt leaving him once he was fully seated.

You wrapped your hands around the back of his neck and pulled him close, your lips pressed to his ear. “Don’t stop, Colin,” you whispered. “I want this. I want you.”

Your words must have pushed him over the edge, because he seemed to lose all self-control, slamming into you over and over, murmuring how beautiful you were, how much he wanted you, how perfect you were, and now you were his, all his. Your bodies were tangled together, moving, thrusting, lips crashing together, breath mingling until you were both coming, your name rumbling from his chest, your nails digging into his shoulders as you writhed beneath him, your walls clenching around him, milking him dry.

Colin rolled off of you, though he didn’t go far, curling up beside you, kissing you more times than you could count. After a few minutes, you pushed him to his back, your hands on his chest, tangling in the hair covering him. You leaned over him and kissed him, your tongue just brushing across his lips.

“I knew it would be soft,” you murmured, “and I knew it would make you even hotter than you already were.”

“Knock it off,” Colin shook his head. “You’re so full of shit.”

“Oh, honey, I’m not,” you whispered. You kissed him under his ear, on his throat, sliding down his body until your nose was buried in his chest hair, your lips drifting over his hot skin.

He growled low in the back of his throat, his hips flexing as your hand closed around his shaft, stroking him slowly.

“I’m not done with you yet,” you laughed.

“You’re incorrigible,” he muttered. “But, don’t stop.” He flipped you to your back, his hips nestled against yours, his mouth covering yours, kissing you breathless. “Get comfortable, sweetheart, because we aren’t going anywhere for a while.”


End file.
